


Hunter's Trap

by Zephyros22



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Drugging, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not gonna lie this gets pretty dark, Kidnapping, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyros22/pseuds/Zephyros22
Summary: The clock rings forth twelve times as smoke descends on the ballroom, a figure striding forth from the black haze. Arms spread wide, he adresses the crowd with a feral smile."Dearest Vesuvia, did you think I had left you for good?"In the shadow of the count, a figure lurked with a dreamless magician in their arms.





	1. Clock Strikes Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm AUing this just a bit to fit my narrative, which means it kinda borrows from each route and the different chapters in each. This is Julian/Apprentice centric, which will be more apparent closer to the end.  
> This chapter is written in Asra's perspective, mainly because of all the magic references. It can be read as unrequited Asra/Apprentice, but read that as you will.  
> Also, this is a multi chapter work, but chapters tend to be quite short.  
> Fayola is my OC, feel free to ask questions about her.

"Dearest Vesuvia, do you think I had left you for good?" 

Asra watched in horror as the count strolled down the grand staircase, arms spread wide like a god descending into his admirers. Gone was the bent sickly figure that Asra recalled all those months ago, decrepit and dying. Even the ghostly form that haunted the palace walls had faded from his aura, replaced by flesh and bone and gleaming metal. Lucio was alive, and he was back.

The crowd near the bottom of the staircase scrambled away from the incoming count, pressing back as far as they could. The crowd was in an uproar, churning as guests tried to back away from this sudden specter. Court admirers and courtiers shoved their way forward to vie for the count's attention. Next to Asra, Nadia's fingers dug deeply into his arm as shock rolled off of her in waves. Behind him, Julian radiated distress. Instinctively, Asra reached out for Fayola next to him, seeking her steady and calming presence. However, the emptiness that greeted him terrified him more than the Count's return. Panic mounting in his chest, he reached out for her with his magic, trying to grasp any type of connection to his apprentice.

She was close, surprisingly. Asra wheeled around, trying to pinpoint the source of Fayola's magic. She was distant, as if a haze fell over her senses and she could not recognize his call. Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes scanned the room wildly in search of the smaller magician. There- in the shadows behind the grand staircase stood a figure. 

Valdemar, and in their arms, an unconscious Fayola. 

Asra felt his heart drop to his stomach, bile rising in his throat. She was limp in Valdemar's arms, arms hanging uselessly against her sides, face contorted in listless distress. The gauzy fabric of her costume was hiked over her legs, Valdemar's gloved hand resting firmly against her bare thigh. Desperately, Asra reached out to her with his magic, trying to rouse her from her wake less state. He could feel a gentle reply, too distant to even hear the words of her voice.

Beside him, Nadia shivered. "Are we too late?" she whispered, unable to shake the sight of the the count, alive and well. 

Julian drew a sharp inhale, body going taut with realization. "If Lucio is here- oh gods, where is Fayola?"

Across the room, Valdemar seemed to spot Asra in the crowd. Behind their mask, their eyes crinkled in a tell tale grin. The woman in their arms shifted, as if trying to rouse herself from whatever force controlled her.

Lucio neared the bottom of the staircase, teeth bared in a feral smile. Asra felt his blood run cold at the sight. There was no time left. He had to get to Fayola. 

"Julian." His voice trembled as he spoke, eyes never leaving the sight of his love's body. "Take Nadia, get somewhere safe. Get to somewhere where Lucio can't find you. Find Portia and Muriel too if you can. I will find you."

"Asra?" Nadia turned to face him. "Where are you going?"

Asra was already trying to dislodge himself from the crowd around him. His eyes were wild as he tried to push forward, heart hammering out of sync. "Valdemar, they took Fayola- I-I have to go."

Julian's heavy hand caught Asra's shoulder. Julian looked as terrified as Asra felt. "I'll come with you, but first we need-"

"There's no time!" Asra cried as the crowd around them began to surge. A glance towards the staircase proved that Valdemar was sinking into the shadows with Fayola's prone body. "Just go-we will find you later, I promise!" No sooner had the words left his mouth that the crowd began to press into the trio, forcing them backwards towards the ballroom exits. "No!" Asra cried, hand reaching past the party go-ers towards the doctor disappearing with his apprentice.

"Asra!" Nadia cried out from behind him, as a hand grasped his arm. He felt himself tugged back, away from the ballroom. 

"No!" He yelled, desperation tinging his voice. He tried to force his way through, but it was too late. Guests spilled towards the exits, sweeping the trio along with them. "Let me go! No!"

"Fayola!!"


	2. To Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deep red fog had covered her senses, body laying limp in her captor's grasp. From beyond the haze, a cold familiar voice echoed in her ears.
> 
>  
> 
> _"Take her to my chambers."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: Kidnapping, references to drugging (beit magically induced sleep)

She was being held, that much she could tell. Cold arms encompassed her figure, a steady presence seemed to bind her thoughts, forcing her into listlessness. As much as Fayola willed her body to move, it could not respond. There seemed to be a heavy fog that fell over her entire mind and body, a disconnect that kept her unable to form a single coherent train of thought. Even the panic that should be rising in her chest at the idea that her magic was unavailable to her seemed to be dulled by whatever force held her under its will. She couldn't move, couldn't cast a single spell, could hardly even think. 

She couldn't feel Julian.

A chill permeated through the fabric of her dress, seeming to sink past her skin and into her bones. She was at the mercy of whoever held her within their grasp, unable to so much as cast her magic out for help. 

_"Take her to my chambers."_

She knew that voice, as much as she was unable to place it. Whoever held her murmured a reply before moving again, carrying her form off in a different direction. Fayola tried to squirm away from their hold, trying to escape from whatever was going to greet her as she woke. yet the hands that held her only cinched tighter around her body. 

Tightness rose in her chest as she tried to struggle, limbs moving sluggishly, uselessly against this person's hold. A call at the edge of her thoughts drew her attention. A voice tinged with desperation called out for her. Again, but the sound was so far away, muffled as if she were under water. A familiar presence hung at the edge of her thoughts, trying to reach her. 

"Asra..." she tried to reply against the haze of her thoughts, but he was fading, being swept away from her. She could hear a desperate plea, and then silence. She tried to reach out again, but her senses were dulled by whatever force held her under. Asra's magic faded into the chaos in the air around her. He was gone.

Fayola tried to cry out, but a low groan was all that escaped her lips. The figure that held her seemed to be amused by her distress, a chuckle bubbling up their throat. Icy fingers shifted their grasp on her form. "Fear not, magician. Your time has not yet come. Our Count still has use for you yet." Despite the words from their captor, Fayola felt all but safe in the arms of this accomplice.

She tried to rouse herself, a part of her screaming out at whatever magic had captured her in it's hold. Her own magic seemed drained from her, bled dry by something more powerful than she. It weighed on her senses like a heavy smoke, choking her into a languid wakefulness.

"Rest for now." the voice murmured as a heaviness weighed down on Fayola's consciousness. She was too weak to resist, as much as she struggled. All too soon, a dark curtain fell over her mind as fog faded to nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments are appreciated!


	3. To Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What a lovely little doe you are, little magician." he sneered. "The Devil surely found a worthy source of magic for my form."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: Sexual assault  
> Fayola my precious child forgive me

Images and visions drifted through Fayola's consciousness as she balanced on the edge of wakefulness. The Arcana, thrown into disarray. Tarot cards fell from empty hands, red beetles covered her vision, a hot wind raked through the city as the faces of her friends faded into mist.

And she, a doe caught in the snare of a hunter's trap.

She couldn't register where she was. Warm, plush cushions pushed up against her form, legs tangled in the confines of her masquerade dress. The drain on her magic seemed to have lifted somewhat, but she still felt weak and spiritless. A heavy presence hung at the edge of her senses, watching, waiting. Her body was heavy, thoughts clouded as she opened her eyes to scan her surroundings. 

She lay prone in a large bed, ruffled cushions and silk sheets cocooning her from all sides. Her skin felt cold, clammy from her tumultuous slumber. Green eyes swept over the room around her. Crimson curtains hung from every wall, golden lanterns dimly lighting the corners and casting dancing shadows against the ceiling. The air was heavy with incense, the scent of spices filling her nostrils. She rolled her head sideways, eyes landing on the grandiose portrait of the count cloaked in gold medals and furs, standing atop a scorched mountain. His eyes seemed to settle on something beyond her sight, locking it within his ambitious gaze. The painting imposed a stifling presence in the room, giving no question about who owned these chambers.

And under the portrait sat its likeness.

Lucio watched her like a cat watched a captive mouse, focused yet terribly amused at her situation. A golden hand pressed up against his temple, shining in the dim light. He sat, legs crossed, observing her figure with alert, interested eyes. 

Fayola met Lucio's red irises for all but a second before she was trying to push herself out of the bed, limbs shaking with the effort to move. With a twist she landed in a heap on the floor, pain shooting up her spine. A groan tore from her lips as she pushed herself up on her arms, legs twisting in a vain effort to free them from her skirt. Her magic which had been inhibited not but hours (Minutes? Days?) beforehand had returned to her, and she cast it out wildly, searching for something, someone, anyone, to answer.

No sooner had she raised herself off the lush carpet did footsteps shake the ground beside her. A cold, chilling metal claw snaked around her throat, gold fingers pressing a silent warning into her skin. The blood in her veins turned to ice, arms frozen, eyes wildly looking up at her captor.

Lucio smiled venomously down at her, eyes raking over her prone form. His words were like the hot wind in her dreams, tearing through her thoughts and drawing her breath away from her lungs. "My, aren't we in a hurry, little apprentice?" The fingers against her throat tapped gently at her esophagus, and for a moment Fayola forgot to breathe. This man, this figure that she only saw in visions as a misty red eyed ghost now had her fully in his grasp, eyes boring into hers like scarlet rubies. The hand against her skin, his voice, and even his presence reeked of powerful magic, as if he was anchored to this realm by some other force. His aura seemed to dwarf her own, smothering her in a red haze. Her own magic felt useless against whatever spell fueled his connection to the mortal realm.

The count leered over her figure, thin arms holding up her chest, bare shoulders exposed by her disheveled dress, slender legs trapped in gauzy fabric, and wide, doe-like eyes gazing with unfiltered terror up at him. A tongue ran over his lips, eyes fully betraying his intentions. Fayola shrank away from his gaze, gut recoiling at what she found in his thoughts.

"What a lovely little doe you are, little magician." he sneered. "The Devil surely found a worthy source of magic for my form."

Frozen in shock, Fayola tried to process what she had just heard. Of course Lucio needed a magic source to power his form. Someone who could regenerate mana simply by being in the mortal realm, someone without the skill to protect themselves to being siphoned off of.

Someone like her.

Fayola lurched away from him, his golden claws leaving behind thin stripes of blood. Th realization that he was leeching off her magic sent rolling waves of nausea through her stomach. Lucio only laughed in response, eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh?" he managed between his laughter. "You only just now noticed?" He stood, full height towering over Fayola. "I needed a magic source to ensure my return." Dark eyes bore down at her, his smile feral and untamed. "The Devil was right in picking you. Strong, powerful magic in your veins, but too untrained to know how to shield yourself from the Arcana." Laughter erupted from his chest, the sound filling the room as Lucio's very being seemed to radiate with dark red magic. Fayola tried her best to scramble away from him, shoulders roughly hitting the side of the bed. She cast out her magic blindly, trying desperately to reach Asra, Julian, Nadia, anyone who could hear her. Yet the shadow of this powerful figure seemed to stifle any attempts to reach her mentor or her friends.

Lucio's eyes locked down on her, hunger tainting his features. Fayola was a doe in the forest, being hunted by a predator much bigger and stronger than her. She cloaked her magic around her like a shield, as if the closer she held it the less he would be able to take. Lucio seemed to sense this, for his delighted sneer only widened with her futile efforts.

She needed to stall, give herself enough time to come up with a plan. Eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for an escape.

"You can't keep me here." she tried to bite out, but her voice trembled with the effort to speak. "Julian will find me. He and Asra will send you back to the other realm for good."

The Count only sneered at her. "You truly think your mentor can save you now?" he growled, voice low with warning. "Will he truly be able to fight off your own magic when it's used against him?"

Fayola's eyes widened at the thought, but before she could wonder any further, the Count sprang on her.

Without warning, a golden claw caught her arm, and the next thing Fayola registered was soft cushions pressing into her from all sides.

Fayola had just enough time to yell in surprise before Lucio's body loomed over hers, a metal hand trapping her own above her, legs caging her smaller body. Lucio's eyes locked on her own, boring straight into her soul and baring all her truths before him. Her stomach rolled when she realized the truth behind his red irises. Squirming, thrashing, she tried to avoid his grasp. Terror clouded her thoughts, her voice nothing more than gasping pleads against his sadistic smile. 

Lucio seemed to only delight in her struggles, his presence heavy and smothering around her. Fayola's chest heaved with the effort to repel the fog that settled over her limbs. A hand sneaked its way to her face, a thumb swiping away a growing tear. His free hand descended on her dress, tugging against the laces of her bodice. Fayola cried out in protest, voice cracking with fear. Lucio's hands descended farther, roaming over her bare hip and pushing away the silky expanse of her skirt. Terror rose in her throat as his touch seemed to leave burning trails against her skin. Her breath came in heaving, uneven gasps. 

"Not like this, please dear gods, not like this..."

Wild eyes stared up at the Count, who seemed to delight in her distress. A purr rumbled low in his chest. "Your magic is delicious, little magician. So pure and untouched." 

Fayola shivered from his words, resuming her struggles. Golden claws dug into her wrists, causing her to cry out. Tears welled at the corner of her eyes, unfiltered horror radiating off of her form. She shook with fear as Lucio's teeth descended on the skin of her neck with bruising force. She could help but whimper as his fingers descended farther down her navel.

"Please." She pleaded in a broken whisper. "Don't."

A low rumble echoed from his chest. "Don't worry little magician, I'll make sure this doesn't hurt."

As Fayola's magic cried out in protest, Lucio descended on her, ruby eyes and sharp teeth ripping her soul and drawing blood from her bones. Her senses dulled as cold hands roamed her body, touching and caressing. Her heart hammered against his touch, stomach lurching as his fingers explored her skin, trailing burning scars in their wake. Lucio's body scorched her skin, fire blazing away her flesh and thoughts. His teeth bit down on her shoulders and chest, leaving a trail of dark bruises against her flesh.

As he took her, as color seemed to fade away from the world around her, she heard his voice in a low snarl against her thoughts.

_"Give me...everything."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments are appreciated!


	4. To Flee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the chambers. Horror rolled in her stomach, and for a moment Fayola was paralyzed with fear. 
> 
> At the back of her thoughts, a voice whispered. _"Go."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: Sexual assault aftermath

When she awoke she was alone. 

She lay frozen on the bedspread for what seemed like hours, mind and sight failing to process what had just happened. The lanterns flickered dimly at the edge of her vision, shadows dancing up against crimson walls. The air felt heavy, weighing down on her with its thick scent. Despite the heat of the room, Fayola realized she was very, very cold.

Instinctively, Fayola took stock of her body. Her arms were splayed against the pillows, gloves removed and tossed carelessly to the side. Her body felt heavy, how long had she been asleep? How had she fallen asleep? Pushing away her thoughts, Fayola slowly pushed herself up from her position on the bed. Wincing, she examined her shoulder, only to find dark bruises in varying shades and sizes trail down to her chest. A tender hand revealed the claw marks against her wrists, with more closer to her chest.

Still in a daze, Fayola absentmindedly pulled up a torn sleeve of her costume, eyes landing on the torn hem of her dress. The costume Nadia had been so careful to customize for her was ripped, sleeves hanging off her shoulders, a long tear running from hem to her waist. Slowly, she became aware that something...everything was wrong. She could feel claw marks against her hips, gouged deep from whatever had held her still as she struggled. Yet beyond that, an alien discomfort radiated from her center. As she shifted, it seemed to alight with renewed pain. Shaking now, she wrapped her arms around herself in a desperate attempt to recall something, anything, from the night before.

His hands were everywhere. Roaming, fondling, touching, just when she thought he would grow weary, he renwed his efforts with double force. She could hear his groans vibrating against the skin of her neck. The room seemed to spin and blur as he moved against her. His hot skin seemed to leech away any semblance of warmth from her figure. Her eyes stared unseeing up at the ceiling as he-

Fayola doubled over, heavy wet gasps tearing from her chest. Hands flew to her face, trying to hold back the bile that rose at the back of her throat. Her entire body began to tremble violently, uncontrollably. Fayola tried to think of anything other than the feeling of his hands, his breath hot against her ear, his-

A ragged sob echoed in the empty room. Hot fat tears spilled down her face as the realization of what happened dawned on her. 

Lucio...

Lucio had...

She was sobbing completely now, exhales ragged with her cries. Her back shook with the effort to simply breathe. The reds and oranges of the room swam before her eyes, bleeding together into a horrifying canvas of colors. Her heart seemed to beat from her stomach, gut recoiling in memory of the events prior. Soft brown lock stuck to her face as she tried to shake away the images of last night. Fingernails dug into her skin as she bent over and screamed.

Shock and grief slowly began to be replaced by hurt, anger, and fear. Ten thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, a hundred questions begging to be answered. How long had she been asleep? Where was Lucio? Was he coming back? Where was Julian? Where was Asra? Nadia? Portia? How many hours had it been? Days? Why hadn't they come for her? Were they gone? Was she alone?

How could she get away from here?

Her body seemed to move of its own accord, standing from the bed and padding silently over to the far corner of the room. A reminder in the back of her mind seemed to echo as she placed her palm beside the massive portrait of the count. Though her magic was weak, the portal seemed to respond. Fayola blinked, remembering the stairway down to the ritual room, and beyond, out to the garden. Slowly, a plan began to form in her mind. She could get out of here. 

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the chambers. Horror rolled in her stomach, and for a moment Fayola was paralyzed with fear. 

At the back of her thoughts, a voice whispered. _"Go."_

She sank into the portal, old magic whispering against her skin. The stairs before her lit dimly at her presence, lighting her way down. If she could get to the ritual room, then out to the garden, to the aqueduct and down towards the city, she could lose him easily. He wouldn't be able to follow her magic, as dim as it was. Once she got to the city, she would be safe.

Behind her, the footsteps reached the door to the chambers. Fayola's exhale echoed in her ears.

With a sudden surge of courage, she sprang forward. Nimble legs descended the stairs with ease, the fabric of her dress trailing behind her. She climbed down the steps three at a time, trying to put as much distance as possible in between her and the count. As the ritual room burst into view, Fayola had to stifle a gag at the smell of rot and decay. In the moment she stopped to gather herself, an enraged roar echoed from the room above her. Ignoring the growing angry aura that began to pursue her, she scanned the other side of the room for the other portal. There- beyond the seat of the magician. A whispered plea into the wall had Fayola emerging into the hedge maze. 

With not a moment to spare, she veered right, and prayed that her instincts weren't wrong. The branches seemed to reach out for her like claws, trying to ensnare her. She merely brushed through them, ignoring the thorns that pricked at her skin and left thin stripes of blood against her arms. Despite the exertion, she felt a distant force pushing her forward, fueling her every footfall. 

She rounded a few sharp turns, never once running into a dead end or having to turn back. As she descended farther into the maze the branches overhead seemed to grow thicker, the sunlight dimmer. Behind her, she could feel a red smog filtering through the maze, reaching out for her with silky tendrils. Her legs carried her forward, jumping, running, and leaping over her path. Like a doe she sprang past the thickets and hedges at the edge of her vision. An angry presence chased her forward. She was fast, but the count knew his way in the maze far better than she. 

A voice seemed to whisper on the wind, carrying with it a silent threat. _"Fayola..."_

There. A tickle at the edges of her senses turned her head. A gate that had been overgrown into the maze beckoned her with the lightest whisper, as if any louder would reveal her place to the count. Fayola didn't even bother to ask permission this time, choosing instead to fling herself through the wall of vines and out into the open field overlooking the city. Behind her, a golden field filled the expanse of her vision. 

Remembering to tuck a prayer under her breath, Fayola surged forward once more. The magic that had fueled her escape from the palace seemed to strain with exertion as she lept down the hillside. Grass stalks whipped her legs as she sprinted forward, hair flying. A part of her remembered to be grateful for the fact that the Count's impatience had left her sandals still woven around her legs. Tall stalks tugged at her skirt, causing her to stop and tug it along. With growing frustration she stopped just briefly enough to tear the hem all the way up the hips, tossing the extra fabric to the side.

With renewed freedom, Fayola's pace seemed to double. Within minutes she was at the top of the aqueduct, staring down at the red river that flowed from the palace. Underneath the crimson tide, a shadow lurked and writhed. Her side seized at the memory of the eel biting down at her skin and drawing her blood. Brushing such thoughts aside, she carefully began to pick her way down the path towards the flooded district.

Lucio's presence behind her seemed to have faded, but that didn't mean she could let down her guard. Yet the more she tried to remain focused, the more she felt her strength begin to drain. Her magic was reaching its limit, and with it, her body. She pushed forward, just as the rays of sunset began to vanish from the sky. Darkness began to fall, and shadows danced at the edges of her senses. Every dark alley hid behind it a menacing figure draped with red magic. Even outside the palace, Lucio seemed to haunt her.

Ragged breaths began to pour from her lips as she struggled to navigate the increasingly dark passages. Sweat beaded her brow, sticking to her back and making the fabric of her dress cling to her. The pain that she had managed to ignore during her pursuit began to return to her, cramping her legs and slowing her pace. Even her senses seemed to dull the farther she clambered along the canals.

A sharp turn into a narrow side street jolted her back to alertness. She knew this street. Memories of her flight with Julian filtered back to her. The feel of his hands upon her bleeding wound, his tall figure dwarfing hers as they hid from the guards, his low voice in the darkness...

She let the memories guide her through the streets, pace not slowing yet stumbling. The cool night air whispered over her skin, sending chills racing up her spine. The streets were empty, all the city folk gone to the palace for the masquerade. She was alone as she clambered her way through the streets, shadows taunting her from the edges of her vision.

Slowly, the streets became more familiar. The rough edges of the city faded to carefully cobbled streets and houses with walls of winding vines. Dim lanterns lighted her path forward, to where she did not know.

She needed to find Julian, to find Asra and Nadia. She knew not where they would be, if they were even in the city at this point, but she knew she needed them. Simply the thought of their warm arms around her made Fayola stop to swallow a sob. The city was large, and there was no way she could find them without aid. Summoning the remnants of her magic, Fayola cast out her senses as far as she could reach. Whispers of townsfolk, creatures in the shadows, and the distant roar of the palace echoed as a cacophony in her ears. Yet she did not hear not feel the countess, nor her mentor, nor her love.

Shaking, Fayola grasped on to the wall beside her to balance herself. There was no way she could continue looking for them tonight. She needed to rest. Yet she couldn't return to the shop, surely Lucio would find her there. Nor could she venture into the more populated sections of town where she would be spotted and questioned. She had to rest somewhere secret, somewhere only she knew. Somewhere Julian could find her.

A ghost of a touch at the edges of her senses had her pacing forward once more, legs buckling as she walked. The farther she walked, the more insistent the presence became. Through the darkened streets, under the street lanterns stood a door. A simple whisper was all it took to lift the lock from the other side. 

Luminous trees canopied the garden over her, old crumbling statues watching as she stumbled inside. Memories of a deadly flower, dark eyes and a forbidden offering haunted her thoughts. No sooner had she reached the center of the garden did her legs fail her. Knees hit the cold stone under her, body collapsing with fatigue. As much as she struggled to stay upright, Fayola fell sideways, her body splayed against cold stone.

Magic wrapped around her protectively, holding her in a warm embrace. Sleep beckoned with a heavy hand. As she drifted into darkness, she reached out for the familiarity of her lover's figure...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments are appreciated!


	5. To be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her eyes fell on the source of the voice, clad in nothing more than a gauzy white shirt, the laces hanging loosely. Wide grey eyes watched her fearfully, a gloved hand reaching hesitantly towards her.
> 
> "Julian?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for: Trauma

_Heavy breath in her ear, dizzying lights of the ballroom, dark shadows in the garden, the cards calling forth an echoing warning..._

_The world around her seemed to vanish into a monochrome vision. Voices called out for her beyond her reach. Crimson beetles scuttled into every direction. Mocking laughter taunted her from the shadows. The bells of the clocktower rang out, signaling midnight._

_Smoke clouded her sight. The sharp acrid smell of a fire wafted through this nightmare, and with it the whispers of thousands. A column of black clouds rose on the horizon, painting a horrifying sunset across the sky. Boats sailed through her vision, carrying with them the sick and dying. They all set sights on a single island far beyond the city. She too, was carried towards the dark shores of the Lazaret. Lines of figures wound towards the peak of the island, to a great furnace. Heat overwhelmed her vision, flames licking at her skin and scorching away her flesh. Wait, she wasn't done yet she wasn't ready no please-_

_A doe standing peacefully in the glen._

_Gentle sunlight spilled downward past a lush green canopy. The chimes of birds called softly in the distance. A breeze whispered over her skin like a kiss. The doe watched her with wide brown eyes. It did not recoil in fear, but rather waited for her with soft hesitation._

_Fayola watched the creature in turn, afraid any movement would spook the doe into flight. Dark eyes mirrored her own against the bright greens of the forest._

_The doe turned, a head cocked in her direction as if to ensure she was following. Fayola watched uncertainly, unsure of what her path should be. A voice, full of laughter answered in reply._

_"Aren't you coming? After all, your story is not yet over."_

\---

A voice called her name.

She didn't want to rouse herself from sleep yet. It still held her in its silky embrace, offering sanctuary from the waking world. Yet the voice was insistent, fear tinging the sound of her name. Slowly she began to pull herself from the arms of her slumber, beginning to register the harsh surface she lay on, the warmth of dawn, and a familiar voice trying to stir her awake.

She felt the cold touch of hands against her bare skin. 

Fayola rocketed into wakefulness, pulling away from the figure's touch with a shout. She gathered her skirts towards her, chest heaving with panic. Someone had touched her, had touched her where-

"Fayola!"

Wild eyes darted around the garden, looking once again for an escape. She had to stand, had to run, had to-

"Fayola."

Her eyes fell on the source of the voice, clad in nothing more than a gauzy white shirt, the laces hanging loosely. Wide grey eyes watched her fearfully, a gloved hand reaching hesitantly towards her.

"Julian?" She whispered, voice raw.

At the sound of her voice Julian surged forward, drawing her into a warm embrace.

"Fayola." he repeated once more, voice choked. "What did he do to you?"

The panic and fear that surged in her chest before fell away in gentle waves. Green eyes stared beyond him, taking in the overgrown garden painted with the soft colors of dawn. Birds sang quietly from the treetops. The worries and fear of the night before seemed to fade like mist in the morning. Here in Julian's arms, she was safe.

Julian himself was trembling against her, arms shaking as they held her close. The warmth of his body chased away the chill of a night spent on stone. His voice whispered wordless murmurs into her hair, words filled with grief and regret.

"Julian?" she questioned, unsure if she had woken from this wonderful dream yet. 

"I'm sorry." He cried into soft brown locks. "Fayola I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

Forgive him? For what?

The events of the day prior came crashing down on her. Her wounds seemed to ache with renewed pain, muscles cramping down in response. Her hands gripped Julian's shirt, the white fabric bunching under her white knuckle grip. Her body shook as memories began to surface once more.

Julian held her at arm's length, taking in her horrified expression and trembling shoulders. He pressed his forehead against hers gently, whispering soft hushes and reassurances. 

"You're safe. You're safe. I promise. Nobody can hurt you now, I'm here. You're ok."

He inhaled slowly, exhaling after a moment's pause, and pushing against the small of her back to encourage her to do the same. Together they breathed in sync, each breath pushing the nightmares farther and farther away. 

"Julian." She breathed after several minutes.

"I'm here." He replied softly, forehead still tucked against her own.

"He-" she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "He hurt me. He hurt me, he took my magic and he-"

Julian tucked her into his shoulder again. His shoulders shook with the effort to contain his sobs. "I'm sorry." he whispered. "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Fayola I'm sorry." His voiced chanted apologies, rocking her back and forth.

Fayola simply tucked her head into Julian's shoulder and let forth the cries she had held back since she woke the day prior. All the emotions, the pain, the hurt and confusion bubbled to the surface as her body was wracked with sobs.

He had defiled her, touched her without her permission, ravaged her body and taken a part of her. He had drank her magic thirstily, absorbing from her her most precious thing. He had crushed her, all while his smile haunted her thoughts.

She gripped on to Julian tightly, screaming in pain, anger, and hurt. He held her as she cried, soft hands gently stroking her hair. 

When her voice failed her, she shook and wiped her tears on his shirt. He stilled, waiting between her hiccups for her to speak. Finally, she murmured against the crook of his shoulder.

"I'll never forgive him."

Julian's entire body went rigid, even the gentle hand against her hair turning into a fist. His voice was low, an undeniable threat. "I'll kill him." He growled. "I swear to the gods I shall kill him."

Fayola couldn't hide her own smile at her next words. "Kill him for good this time, ok?"

Some of the tension lifted from Julian's shoulders. His low rumbling chuckle echoed in her chest. "It's a promise." he whispered.

She sagged into his chest, breathing in his scent and letting her senses dull. "Take me home, Julian." she whispered.

"Of course my lady."

Ever so gently he scooped her into his arms, holding her close. Fayola let her eyes flutter shut, the warmth of his hold rocking her into a wonderfully peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dream with the deer might be a bit confusing, so allow me to explain. Each character is connected to a card. The Apprentice is established to be connected to 'The Fool'. Each character is given an animal representation. In Fayola's case, it is a doe. The deer in the dream was her card trying to speak to her.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'd be very happy if you could leave Kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all comments are appreciated!


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